Two-Blades: A Bounty Hunter's Tale
by GryphonTamer13
Summary: She was Dooku's first pupil after he left the Order- and his favorite. But Dooku knew the boy had the most promise- and the most anger. Raised as brother and sister, they grew to be more than friends. Torn apart by ideals, he will hunt her to the edge of the galaxy...
1. The Girl

"No." Yoda's scratchy voice, firm but sad, echoed around the Jedi Council Room, which was empty save for himself and the tall, steely man before him.

"You would refuse my request?" Bitter anger stained Dooku's cultured baritone, and his hands clenched at his sides.

"Refuse it, yes."The little Master shook his head sagely. "Feel, I do not, that you will guide a Padawan in the ways of our teachings. Your own opinions and ideals, that you will dwell on, and mislead the girl you will."

Dooku attempted to protest. "Master Yoda, I would never lead the child astray. How can you accuse me of this?"

Yoda fixed his penetrating gaze on the tall man, his bright, yellow-green eyes searching deeply into the grey eyes of the Count. "Know you too well, I do. Skyra Kalari will not be your Apprentice."

Dooku stormed out of the Council Room without another word. Yoda, troubled, peered intently at Dooku's retreating back.

"A bad feeling about this, I have."

†

Skyra sat on her bed, trying to relax and failing at it. Would Master Dooku accept her? She had tried so hard- and really, she had fought quite well-

No, that was a lie. It had been quite obvious that she had won the match by sheer luck. If Nevrin hadn't tripped over a crate in the training arena, he probably would have won. Sighing, she drew her knees to her skinny chest and rested her chin on them. Her moss-green eyes filled with anxiety, and she squeezed her eyelids shut.

It seemed like every day was a challenge, every_thing_ was a challenge- to be a girl, nine-years-old and taller than most of the boys, but as graceless as a Youngling; to be a girl, and have knobbly knees and stylus-thin wrists and to feel like you might blow away, or trip over your own shadow if you didn't watch your feet every second. _Growth-spurts,_ Skyra decided, _are terrible things_. She sniffled dejectedly and let her blonde hair slide down to cover her face.

She wanted to be chosen more than anything else in the galaxy, and to be chosen by Master Dooku especially. His lightsaber technique was of the old fencing style, which Skyra greatly admired, and he was intelligent and respected. One could learn much from being Dooku's apprentice.

_Perhaps enough to be graceful?_ she wondered with faint hope.

At that moment came a knock on the door of her sleeping apartment. She looked up, startled, and felt her stomach flutter desperately. _Oh, please-_

"Come in."

The door opened softly to reveal the tall figure of Master Dooku. He was smiling.

_Oh! _Uncertainty pulled Skyra's heart tight in her chest. "Greetings, Master."

"I hope I am not disturbing you, Skyra." Dooku's voice was warm and kind.

She tried a weak attempt at a grin. "Nope. I mean- no, sir."

"Good." His face turned serious. "There is something I must discuss with you."

"What is it, sir?"

"It is about your ability to become my Padawan."

Skyra tried to hide the fact that she was close to passing out. "Have I done something wrong?"

"Not at all, child." He seemed to hesitate, then plunged forward. "I wish to accept you-"

Skyra attempted to stay upright-

"-But Master Yoda feels you are too young, and will not allow it."

"Ah." It was not a sigh, exactly, and not a sob. More like the whimper of a bird whose wing has broken. Skyra hid her face in her hair as black disappointment crushed her heart.

Dooku was silent for a moment. Doubt and remorse flickered across his features, but he hid them quickly. He knelt by the bed.

"Do you wish to train under me, Skyra Kalari?"

She lifted her face to look him in the eyes. "Oh, more than anything. But Master Yoda-"

"Never mind him. Do you want to train under me?"

"Yes, sir."

"Enough to leave the Temple?"


	2. The Boy

Dooku prowled the lower levels of Coruscant, his eyes dark with inner thought. Skyra was proving to be an excellent pupil- determined, clever, willing… but she lacked _anger._ It simply wasn't there. She would fight with tenacity, endurance, courage, she would do anything he asked of her… but she had no rage. No hate. Dooku admired her for it, and was secretly pleased with her inner strength, but he knew she would never be a Sith. Yes, a Sith. After all, he had chosen the Dark Side, hadn't he? His pupil would be expected to follow in his footsteps.

Dooku sighed. Really, when you thought about it, he did not fully embrace the violent Dark Side training. Except for the allowance of the darker emotions, Skyra's routines had not varied much from those she had occupied at the Temple, only personalized. She was nurtured and encouraged, her flaws accepted, her strengths applauded. Dooku rarely raised his voice. He never punished her.

His heart suddenly burned within him. She had unwittingly called him 'father' yesterday at breakfast.

She would never, ever be a Sith.

There was nothing for it, then. He needed another student. But what to do with Skyra?

Perhaps… Dooku's brow wrinkled. When he did find a new student- probably some untrained, over-looked urchin of a youthful age- they would need a sparring partner. Someone to train with and look up to.

Dooku smiled.

†

Rowen knelt on Septimus' chest, his face contorted in rage as he leered down into the bruised countenance of his victim. "Do not ever steal from me again! Do you hear? Never! Or you'll get more of this!" Rowen dealt the older boy another vicious blow before standing abruptly and walking away, leaving his battered opponent silent on the ground behind him.

Septimus had eaten Rowen's bread.

Rowen simmered as he stalked into the streets of Coruscant's lowest levels. As always, he walked with his head down, slipping through the crowd easily and without thought; he knew which way the throng would move before he ran into someone. His subconscious beckoned him toward his dwelling, a small room accessed by a hole in an alley wall near Lunara's Bar And HotSpot. He had half a womp-rat stowed away in there somewhere…

He looked up suddenly as an odd presence touched him, and he saw, coming down the street towards him, a tall man dressed all in black, with a long cape. Rowen stepped aside to make room for the older man. He didn't want any trouble.

To his alarm, the man purposefully mirrored Rowen's sidestep and continued towards him. Rowen felt a distinct urge to run, coupled with an anger directed at this man who obviously sought some sort of confrontation with him.

The anger won.

Rowen marched forward, stuck his chin out, and demanded, "What do you want, old man?"

The gentleman's smile was like ice and wind. "I want to teach you the ways of the Sith."


End file.
